


Untitled Time and Again Coda

by Briar Rose (Byrcca)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Golden Oldies, Pre P/T, early s.1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byrcca/pseuds/Briar%20Rose
Summary: Tom is minding his own business, enjoying his lunch when B’Elanna has a bone to chew. Tom can’t help being himself.





	Untitled Time and Again Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Today’s offering from the vault: Remember the good old days of S1 when B’Elanna still thought Tom was a rat-fink bastard? Me, too. I guess this isn’t really a coda to Time and Again since none of that ep really happened except the bit on the bridge at the very beginning and end of the episode. 
> 
> Originally posted elsewhere in March of 2006.

If K-Tel albums make me think of Tom Paris, then Crowded House on the disk makes me feel all P/T-ish. Title suggestions appreciated.

~~~ 

Tell me all the things you would change  
I don’t pretend to know what you want  
when you come around and spin my top  
time and again, time and again. 

Distant Sun from the album, Together Alone by Crowded House.  
Written by N. Finn. 

~~~ 

“If you had even a shred of human decency, you’d leave him alone.” 

Tom Paris froze, fork halfway to his mouth, and swiveled his head to look into the hard eyes of _Voyager’s_ new chief engineer. Brand, spanking new, in fact. Now that was a fine mental image – B’Elanna Torres bent over his knee, pert bottom in the air. His mouth tweaked in a half-smile, and he caught her eye and the not-so-fine expression on her face. Well, well, B’Elanna Torres, angry and snarling: big surprise. He wondered anew how such warm brown eyes could look so flinty. 

“That’s an odd turn of phrase, coming from you,” he countered. He brought the fork to his mouth and made himself chew on the sticky, slightly gritty rations. Beef Stew with Winter Vegetables. Could’a fooled him; it tasted more like warp-sludge residue with mouse chunks. Tom forced it down his throat, trying to look unaffected. 

“Who am I being warned away from? No,” he held up a hand, stopping her response in mid-inhale. “Lemmie take this down. I’ll add it to my list.” He made an elaborate show of patting down his uniform jacket and looking around the mess table. “Oh, sorry, I don’t have a PADD.” 

“Then I’ll make it simple so you’ll remember: Harry Kim.” 

Paris reached for his water glass and took a slow sip. He’d been waiting for this, but he didn’t expect it to come from her. Damn it. Harry was the only person on _Voyager_ who didn’t give a damn about his past, who didn’t feel the need to throw it in his face daily. There was no way he was giving up Harry’s friendship without a fight. 

He set the glass back on the table with a soft click. “What about him?” 

“He’s young and…” 

“And…?” This was getting interesting. 

Torres shot a quick glance around the mess, and then slid into the chair opposite Tom. She lowered her voice a notch. “And pretty innocent. He could be easily influenced by someone like you.” 

Tom puffed out a breath and stabbed a mouse-bit with his fork. “Someone like me,” he murmured. Fuck. His chin came up, and he smiled sweetly at her. “Don’t worry, Torres. Harry’s virtue is safe with me. I like my boys with a little more experience under their belts.” 

Her expression hardened, and her mouth pinched into a thin, angry line. Not an easy task with that mouth, Tom mused. He idly wondered what he’d have to say to get her angry enough to want to spank him. 

“Stop trying to strong-arm him into a double-date with the Delaney sisters.” 

“Why, are you jealous?” He grinned at her, instantly seizing on a surefire way to piss her off further. “Because I can swing by your quarters tonight after I leave Megan’s, if you don’t mind waiting up for me. Or I could wake you.” 

He saw a flash of fire in her eyes and resisted the urge to laugh. She looked ready to jump to warp. She was as easy to manipulate as his helm controls. 

Her eyes narrowed. “If you really believe that goodie-two-shoes ‘fleeter would let you in her bed then you’re stupider than I thought.” 

Now that one stung. He’d cop to being a jerk or even an asshole at times, but he wasn’t stupid. “I’m trying to do him a favor.” 

“He’s engaged,” she said, “and he’s not looking for any ‘favors’.” She stressed the word, giving it an entirely different meaning than Tom had intended. “Libby? He talks about her all the time. He’s still in love with her, and –” 

“Oh come on, Torres!” Tom almost couldn’t swallow it: big, bad B’Elanna-the-Klingon-Warrior-Woman was a romantic at heart. Who would have guessed? “He’s never going to see her again.” He shot a quick glance around the crowded mess hall. “No one on this ship will ever see their loved ones again. I assumed you and the other Maquis would be grateful for the reprieve. I sure as hell am!” 

“You don’t know that,” she scoffed. “We have no idea what’s out here in this quadrant. We could find a wormhole, or…” 

“Or…?” 

“Or, I don’t know! Anything could happen.” 

“Well, hell, maybe I’m wrong,” Tom conceded. “Maybe young Harry will live to see the fair Libby again. They’ll be in their nineties, and she’ll be able to introduce him to her great-grandchildren, and just maybe he’ll be so senile that he won’t think about the seventy years he wasted pining for her.” Tom scowled. “It’s a date, Torres, that’s all, or has it been so long since you’ve been on one that you’ve forgotten what the word means?” 

She looked poleaxed by that, and Tom almost laughed out loud at the expression on her face. Being Tom Paris, though, he had to push a little harder. He leaned across the table, pushing his dinner aside. “You know, it turns out that the delectable Delaney sisters are on shift tonight, which means I’m free. And if you don’t have plans –” 

“You’ve got to be joking!” Her voice rose, and half the heads in the mess hall turned their way. She didn’t seem to notice. “If you think for one minute that I’d –” 

This time he cut her off. “I doubt you’d recognize a joke if it jumped up and bit you on the ass. You know what you are, Torres?” He saw her jaw clench, watched as her left hand curled into a fist. Cool, he reminded himself. Play it cool. None of this – none of them – matters to you. 

“Why don’t you tell me what I am, Paris?” Her voice was deadly quiet. 

The best defense is a sneak attack. “You’re a fun-sucker.” 

Bang! She’d been deflated with one jab. Tom smiled and elaborated. “A fun-sucker. Some people just magically bring light and sunshine wherever they go.” He gestured to himself. “They bring fun. They’re the life of the party.” 

She rolled her eyes, and Tom saw her body, fist included, relax. Dodged that one. 

“Other people just seem to suck every molecule of joy out of the air.” He gestured toward her with his fork. “A fun-sucker, that’s you.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he deflected her attempt to get a word in. He leaned back in his chair, throwing off his ‘fleet posture and getting comfortable, stretching out his legs under the table. 

“Now, I’ve noticed this trait in Harry, and frankly, it disturbs me. He’s a little young to be so serious. If he’s not careful, he’ll end up like you, wasting his youth toiling in the bowels of the ship all day and half the night. Never getting out into the sunlight, never having any fun.” 

Her eyes narrowed again and she drew a breath. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep this ship running? To, to repair all the damage that was done by the Caretaker, not mention the Kazon! The gel packs are a new technology and I have to train all of the Maquis on how they work. We just get one thing up and running and something else crashes.” 

Tom poked at his poison-in-a-bag dinner. “Yeah. I noticed that you still don’t have the replicators online. When are you going to assign someone to fix that?” 

She was instantly angry again, and she leaned across the small table, her eyes flashing fire. Her voice was low and deadly. “If this were a Maquis ship, I’d beat the hell out of you for that.” 

Don’t move, don’t even blink. Cool. “If this were a Maquis ship, I’d already be dead. Take your best shot, Torres. What’s the worst that could happen? Megan Delaney would fuss over me and nurse me back to health, and Janeway would probably promote you. Hell, she made you chief for punching Joe Carey, beat the shit outta me, and you might make XO.” 

She blinked once then burst out laughing. Thank god. She might have decided to take him up on his offer. Tom relaxed for the first time since she’d walked into the mess. 

“It’s a date, B’Elanna, nothing more. I’m not trying to marry him off; I just want him to have a little fun. I want him to come to the holodeck and relax for a few hours, and Jenny and Megan Delaney are the only way I’m going to get him there.” He studied her a moment, noting the shadows under her eyes, the sallow sheen to her skin. He realized that Chief Engineer Torres was only a few years older than Young Ensign Kim. 

“You know, you look like you could use a break. Why don’t the three of us book a little holodeck time tonight? There’s a program I wanted to try; _Paris in the moonlight_. I think you might enjoy it.” 

“I don’t know whether you’re joking or delusional.” 

She shook her head, and her hair swung around her jaw. Tom’s eyes were drawn back to her mouth, smiling now. Wow. 

Suddenly she straightened, pulled her body out of the chair and smoothed her uniform top. “Just… just go easy on Harry. He won’t show it but he’s feeling a little vulnerable right now.” 

“I think we all are,” Tom said quietly. “We just show it in different ways.” 

For a moment her tough-as-nails, oh-so-capable-chief-engineer mask slipped. “Just go easy on him,” she repeated. She straightened her shoulders and strode toward the exit, head held high, but he saw her hesitate at the door and sneak a glance in his direction. 

Human decency. Yup. He had it in spades. But he wasn’t sure letting Torres know that was such a good idea. Then again, wouldn’t it be considered the ‘decent thing’ to nurture that hidden romantic inside her? Food for thought; he just had to decide whether or not he was hungry. 

He speared another mouse chunk and chewed on it for while... 

~~~


End file.
